I Am A Mother-Orphaned Teen Girl

I honestly feel like Cinderella but only if her work had a three drink minimum, and if she still had a mother.

The reading I'm part of is tomorrow, a venture called The Fifth Annual Ricki Lake Reading. The "headliner" as it were has been writing a book about a man who has been stalking Miss Lake for a long time and some shit goes down. The reason I'm like the Disney princess over here is because I have a ball to attend and I feel like I've got nothing to wear...or read.

Certainly I have a few stories I've finished this past semester, but they all taste like vile shit smeared across my eyes when I read them again. My red pen flies across each page marking some paragraphs as "unnecessary" and others as "unforgivable". I'm going to either read Gears which Aaron has seen or Redeemer which I've not really fleshed out. Either way I'll hopefully get through the day tomorrow without drinking so much that keighdee has to read for me or loathing so much that keighdee also has to read. If I'm drinking AND loathing then christ help everyone, at that point I'll probably just get up there with no copy and wing it.

Excerpt

This is a five line collage we had to make from the random journal writings we had. It amused me.

Her eyes looked into his for a moment and then it was over.
"I'm a man of squares, miss," he said with a smile.
She didn't take it well, bludgeoning him with a cast iron skillet.
"I'm not a harlot," she replied.
I am Redeemer.

I can't wait to see what I'm supposed to use this collage for, but I hope it involves domineering, which I picture as engineered domination. Built by popular demand, "Bridget Huxley, a domineering woman in red leather pasties." God dammit it is beautiful.

Homecoming

I will be home for the summer mates, cats and all. I'll be taking classes at IPFW and once again working at the track with Chris. You are forewarned.

I'm not really sure how the living arrangements will go but if they are not working I have a cheap room at Chris' bachelor pad that will serve well. I'm terribly excited to be out of Muncie for a few months and in the company of my brothers for more than a night of debauchery. I can smell delicious summer nights to come. Not to mention that having the job at the track will allow me the ability to purchase Keighdee's rings finally. Ring the bells, brothers, I am coming home.

Progress Made

These last few days have been a weird collection of accidental drunken me, sleep, cleaning and work. School is winding down and I just want the whole goddamn thing to go away. I doubt it will.

The summer is just over the next hill but it will be short lived for me and I'm not too sure what to do. I have two cats and a lease that is coming up in May which I either have to renew for the summer and pay out the ass for or do I don't know what with. I have no where to go with the cats so I'm pretty much fucked. Chris had some good suggestions for me and I'd like to take them up but I just cannot find a haven for the littluns so I guess I'm muncie bound. What a fucking trip.

Aside from that things are going swimmingly I guess. I don't have any job prospects outside of maybe working for the grocery store this summer. Hopefully things turn up, who knows.

This was a ramble and I'll leave it at that, my brothers.

Minor Setbacks

Of course I'd expected them, but not in such massive detail. I sense hours of work ahead and much despair as the beginning draws near.

I have been playing an unnecessary amount of COD4 and I think I'm finally getting my money back out of that Xbox thing. Each RPG that hits its mark and every silenced AK-47 round that meets its destiny is one more step towards a nice cushy office and some much needed paper to push around. I will tell you that my high score on the day was something like seventy-two kills, three air strikes, two helicopter assaults and thirteen deaths in one game. At the end of it my fingers hurt, I might have been sweating and I had broken my headset. It was a good day.

On a less violent note the endeavor comes along with the setbacks aforementioned. Apparently with the way she wants to wander the entirety of chapter three must be removed and replaced by something entitled Gallivanting. You have resumed your role, brothers, play it well.

I think I'll end this here and play a few games before class. I've been writing since seven this morning and having to throw out almost all of what I've written has drawn my ire for the pen. I will have it adjusted by the day's end, or maybe I will be drunk and it will be me that is adjusted. We will see after my meeting about grad school which one is the necessary choice. Until then.

Hammer Time, As I Live And Breathe

I had always wondered what became of the man in the "hammer pants" whose music my brother and I used to sit outside in the summer and listen to on the radio. We actually won a pair of cd's by being able to list some of MC Hammer's music and the order it was played in throughout the day. The reason I bring this to your attention is because he has his own blog here that he has been keeping since 2006 and it is an interestingly personal collection of his thoughts and ideas. I knew that he was an artist and entertainer, but I did not know to what extent his political interest and desire for debate went to. Peruse at your discretion, I found it interesting.

Aside from that I hit new revelations about chapter three and have put it mostly down on the page. Thanks to Theory for reviewing the piece I sent you, the critique was as good as I could have hoped for. I will admit that when I read the comments I was embarassed and angry and everything that comes with seeing the shortcomings of your work displayed. It was a "woods full of trees" moment for me and it hit the gooey center of my personal pride harder than I liked. Criticism is something I have never done well with, something that has spiked me internally many times over, but I have forced myself to take the truth with all the power that it demands and I am thankful that my brothers are unwilling to give me anything but that. I will no doubt send you the short story I'm starting to work on soon, if for nothing else then to see what I have missed and make it the best possible piece it could be.

I have not posted any flash fiction in a while, at least nothing continuing the story of the western madness. I may do that again if for nothing else then to take a break from the minds of my other characters. I've started thinking like them and I fear that schizophrenia will ensue.

Look alive, oh my brothers, there is summer on the horizon and festivities fly with in with the warmth. Until then.

Appearances

Apparently nobody liked my idea so I'm going it alone. I win the prize and victory is good.

I have not posted recently because I'm busy doing other business like writing papers about nothing or worrying about the wedding. Its pretty far off still which is good because I'm a poor poor man.

For some reason editing other works is actually an enjoyable experience for me. I like to be able to see where other writers are at and throw some love at them in the form of black-ink slander. I'm pretty sure one of my comments in the margin of a story about cattle was "fuck-tard*". I hope they understood the footnote attached to it as it took me a while to format "Cheese-wasted" and "Whorefooted Mousepatrol" in the proper fonts. That font was wingdings.

Also, another fun side story. I watched some people thieve wood from the back lot of a rental place last night. Twenty minutes of snapping wood off of a pallet and stuffing it onto carts and into bags. I'm not sure what the wood was for but there is a forty-foot horse parked in downtown muncie right now that stinks of beer and sweat. Thank god the war is over though, brothers.